


A Night to Forget

by Sephirotha



Series: Final Fantasy XIV Collection [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female Warrior of Light - Freeform, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Smut, Suicide Attempt, Two Endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sephirotha/pseuds/Sephirotha
Summary: “…You’re not well dressed for the cold weather.”  Eve let out a nonchalant hum.  “…You should return to the manor.”“I don’t want to.”Estinien shifted his grip on her.  “Then…let us retire to the Forgotten Knight.”Eve nodded.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Series: Final Fantasy XIV Collection [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622137
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	1. A night...

Eve couldn’t sleep.

Her body was aching and tired, but her mind was alive with grief.

It still felt like a horrible dream to her. Like she’ll wake up at any moment now and be in the arms of her beloved. She’ll see his smile, feel his gentle touch and kiss those beckoning lips.

Tears burned in her brown eyes as she gripped a pillow, hugging it to her chest.

She tossed and turned in her bed, scratching and pawing at the sheets. She kicked the duvet off. Then she brought it back to encompass her body.

She was either too warm or too cold. There was no comfortable equilibrium.

With a frustrated sigh, the miqo’te sat up and buried her head in her hands. Her eyes were dry and sore, yet they still threatened to shed more tears.

She turned to the window and hesitantly reach for the curtains. She pulled one to the side and saw the snow falling from the dark sky.

She pressed her lips together, recalling the conversations she had with him as they watched the snow fall whilst wrapped in each other’s embrace.

There was a time she’d shy away from his suggestive comments and compliments. Never did she believe she’d yearn to hear them once more, as if her life depended on it.

Eve turned away from the window and pushed herself out of bed. She paced back and forth as she dressed.

A walk should help send her to sleep.

Yet she didn’t stray far from the Fortemps Manor. In fact, she found herself staring down at the lower levels of Ishgard from the Last Vigil. 

She looked down into the dark abyss, alit with one or two lights from those who decided to work late into the night.

She overheard many stories of characters that fell from here. Be it willing or no.

Her ears pricked as a dark thought crossed her mind.

With a nervous swallow, she lifted her foot to place it on the stone railing…

“Eve!”

The miqo’te’s eyes widened as arms encircled her waist and pulled her away from the railing. She was turned away and faced with the Vault, her ears flattening at the sight. She stared up at the intimidating structure before tearing her gaze away and gripping the arms that held her steady.

A breath of relief tickled her ear.

“Eve. You mustn’t.”

“Estinien…” she glumly acknowledged the dragoon.

She was turned around to face him, his hands gripping her shoulders. She couldn’t look him in the eye as he shook her.

“Don’t let his sacrifice be in vain.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared at the stone railing longingly.

“It should have been me.”

“Look at me, Eve.”

Eve closed her eyes, turning her head more so she wouldn’t look at him. 

How could she? He had caught her in one of her lowest moments.

Ha. What a fine spectacle this must be.

The Warrior of Light about to end her life in the vain attempt that she would see her fallen love. 

Pathetic.

Her right ear twitched as she heard metal moving and she turned her head a little to see Estinien removing his helmet. She looked startled to see his face completely for the first time and turned to him fully.

“No doubt, if the roles were reversed, he would be mourning you. But he died for you. He was happy to know you were safe. Don’t waste his life by becoming another faceless victim of grief.”

The miqo’te swallowed softly as his gaze lowered.

“I relive the days when I lost my loved ones. Their screams, their lifeless bodies… I have considered my life to be forfeit many times. I was close, Eve. So close to ending my misery through the coward’s way out.

So I foolishly pursued Nidhogg for revenge. But his death didn’t serve to bring them back. Yet it brought me out of those dark thoughts.”

He lifted his blue gaze to meet hers, gripping her shoulders tighter.

“You must pursue Thordan. Not for revenge, but to prevent what he intends. Not for Haurchefant, but for the future. Not because you’re the Warrior of Light, but because you wish it.”

Eve parted her lips then looked down, her tail swaying slowly behind her. Estinien loosened his grip on her shoulders as he closed his eyes with a soft sigh.

“Estinien? Can I hug you?”

The dragoon looked reluctant, but he let her shoulders go so she could step forward and wrap her arms around him. She purred quietly as he awkwardly embraced her back.

“…You’re not well dressed for the cold weather.” Eve let out a nonchalant hum. “…You should return to the manor.”

“I don’t want to.”

Estinien shifted his grip on her. “Then…let us retire to the Forgotten Knight.”

Eve nodded.

* * *

No questions asked. That’s what Eve liked most about the Forgotten Knight perhaps.

Gibrillont’s face betrayed no emotion as he handed a room key to Estinien, who led the miqo’te to the back. 

It was eerily quiet as they walked down the corridors. Eve could faintly hear the sound of Estinien’s greaves against the floorboards but perhaps he was trying to keep quiet for the sake of the other patrons.

She nearly bumped into him when he stopped at the assigned room and unlocked it. He stepped to the side and nodded, allowing her to walk in first.

She rubbed her arm as she stood in the centre awkwardly. She watched the dragoon pace the room, setting his lance and helm down then igniting a couple of candles.

“Is aught the matter?”

Eve jumped and blushed when she realised she had been caught staring. She cleared her throat and looked away.

“…How did you fit all that hair in your helm?”

Estinien looked taken aback briefly before an amused smirk appeared on his face. He took his ponytail to the side and ran a couple of fingers down it.

“There was a time I’d frequent barbers to keep the length in check. It has been a while.”

“…It suits you.”

Her eyes followed the end of the ponytail as he fiddled with it. He raised an amused eyebrow, deliberately swinging it before her, watching her pupils dilate. 

Eve snapped to attention, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Dangle it like that! You’re distracting me!”

A soft chuckle left his lips as he pulled the tie out of his hair and let it fall loose. “Is that better?”

“…I don’t know.”

Estinien sat on the bed, lifting his legs to take his greaves off. Eve shyly toed her boots off and slipped the coat she had put on over her nightclothes before going out of the manor. She hung the coat up on a peg and shuffled to sit next to Estinien. 

He turned his back to her after removing his greaves and began fiddling with his gauntlets.

“Pray undo the clasps to my cuirass.”

Eve’s ears pricked as she hummed something in affirmation and got to her knees. She sat up to fiddle with the clasps holding his cuirass together, easing the dragoon out of the offending piece of armour for him to set to the side. 

Her eyes lingered on his hair as it cascaded down before her. Her fingers twitched as she eyed his length with a hint of jealousy.

“Is aught the matter?”

Eve pouted slightly as Estinien turned to look up at her before she sunk down a little. “…It’s longer than mine.”

“Ah. But not as long as Iceheart’s.”

“Do _not_ remind me. What is it with you elezens and long hair anyway?!”

Estinien let out a small hum as he reached out to brush her ebony hair out of her face. “Long hair is a chore, Eve. I’m sure you’re aware.”

Eve’s ears twitched as she leaned into his hand and rubbed her ear against it. He hesitated then scratched the base of her left ear, eyebrows raising as he heard her purr.

“So miqo’tes do purr.”

“Yes. We do.” Eve had a grumpy pout and rubbed against his hand insistently. “More please.”

“So demanding.” Estinien grunted softly as Eve moved past his hand and gently headbutted his chest.

“…Please? I want…someone to take care of me. I don’t think I have anyone else to turn to.”

The dragoon began rubbing both her ears, making her purr louder. “Eve, there are plenty around you who would jump at the chance to be with you like this.”

“…Are you one to _jump_ as much?” she asked teasingly.

“I will not dignify that question with a response.”

Eve lifted her head to smile at him. 

Her purring quietened as she took in his face, lips parting as she mapped his features. Tears brimmed her eyes once more as she avoided the blue gaze.

“…Can I hug you again?”

“Aye.”

The elezen caught the miqo’te as she practically pounced on him. She squeezed her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder and clutching the back of his undershirt. She sniffled softly, sighing heavily as he brought his arms around her to return her embrace.

He rocked her back and forth, leaning his head against hers.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to him. “I’m sorry you have to put up with this.”

“I chose to put up with this. Do not apologise for your grief when it is still so fresh.”

“It should have been me.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“It should have!”

“Ssh, ssh…” He cradled the back of her head, hugging her tighter. “It hurts, I know. I know. But you will grow stronger from it. I promise, Eve, you’ll grow stronger as long as you stay strong now.”

Eve gasped as tears rolled down her face. “I don’t know…if I’ll ever be strong. I feel so weak…”

“You’ve suffered grief and loss before, Eve. You _know_ you can weather through this again. Don’t stay strong for anyone but yourself. You must keep going, Eve. For yourself. For him.”

Eve let out a shuddering sigh as she propped her chin on his shoulder and looked up at the ceiling with tear-filled eyes. “…I’m cold.”

Estinien nodded against her and held one arm around her body tight. With his other arm he reached behind her and pulled the covers back.

They sank in the bed, wrapped up in each other’s embrace and the duvet. Eve purred again as she settled herself against him, draping a leg across his hip and nuzzling her nose into his chest. His strong fingers rubbed her scalp, eliciting louder purring.

Yet, not five minutes later, Eve shifted uncomfortably from the heat. Estinien lifted his head and shifted the covers down so her shoulders weren’t covered anymore. The miqo’te squirmed before looking up at the dragoon bashfully.

“…Can I take this nightgown off? I’ve naught but my briefs underneath…”

“By the Fury, Eve, you went out into Ishgard’s weather as such?” Estinien closed his eyes and tilted his head up slightly. “Would you be comfortable?”

“I…wouldn’t overheat. And I trust you.”

He contemplated for a moment then nodded. “Aye, if it will make you feel better.”

“Will you be uncomfortable?”

“It would be the first time I’ve…seen a woman bare.”

Eve’s ears pricked as she sat up and looked down at him with curious eyes. “Really? You? You’re not…untouched, are you?”

Estinien avoided her gaze. “I hadn’t the time to distract myself with such activities. I was too focused on my revenge for Nidhogg.”

“Estinien, would it truly be alright for you to see me bare?”

A smirk appeared on his lips. “Do not express your concern for me when it is you who are hurting.” Eve’s ears twitched as he turned away from her. “I shan’t stare.”

The miqo’te hesitated for a moment before taking the hem of her nightgown and slipping it off. She shivered as her heated skin was exposed to the cool room temperature and snuggled back into the blankets.

She slid towards Estinien, pressing her back against his and purring softly.

“Do you feel better?” he asked and she nodded.

“Aye.”

“Good.”

Eve bit her lip as she glanced out of the window, watching the snow fall outside in the dark of the night. She swallowed softly and closed her eyes, resting her head on the pillow.

Perhaps it had been a quarter bell, perhaps it had been longer. But Eve felt Estinien shift behind her a few times, making her wake up just as she felt like she’d drop off to sleep. She grumbled under her breath and looked over her shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re fine with this?”

“…Tis warm.”

“You can take your shirt off or adjust the covers on your side if you’d like. Or I can find another room?”

“Nay, I…I am worried to leave you alone in this moment.” He turned to look at her over his shoulder. “I’ll remove my shirt. Unless it will make you uncomfortable.”

“I’ve seen many topless men, Estinien. I am not a blushing priestess sworn to celibacy.”

The dragoon looked amused as he sat up and removed his shirt. Eve swallowed as she eyed his chiselled torso, purring softly at the sight. Her ears pricked as Estinien glanced at her and she looked away with pink cheeks.

“You said you wouldn’t stare but I said nothing of the sort,” she said with a soft pout.

Her heart leapt when she felt his arm encircle her waist and his chest press against her back. She blushed deeper as she was brought closer so he could encircle around her almost nude form.

“Am I pleasing to the eye, little archer?” he whispered into her ear and she went redder still.

“…Yes. Of course. You must have most women in Ishgard swooning over you.” Her ear twitched, grazing against his nose. “Wait, is that why you keep your features hidden? You’ve actually attracted the attention of many, many ladies who would chase you down for a night betwixt the sheets?”

A soft snort. “Your flattery is mediocre. And that is a compliment.”

“Ah but you can see it’s flattery so…it works?”

“Flattery is not meant to be spotted so easily for it to work. For a bard, you are poor with choosing your words.”

“…I know someone who’d beg to differ.”

Eve closed her eyes and cursed under her breath, relaxing against him.

“Hells, I…”

“It is normal, Eve. With time the bittersweet memories will grow fond.”

“But I don’t want them to be bittersweet. I just…I just…”

Estinien pulled her in closer, tucking her head under his chin. She purred softly as she felt his chest press more into her back.

“…I can tell that isn’t my tail pressing into me.”

“Forgive me, I cannot control it.”

Eve smiled a little and turned to look up at him. She parted her lips slightly, reaching to tuck some white hair behind a pointed ear. She traced its shell idly, her breath hitching as his hand moved up her stomach and rested just under her bosom.

“We shouldn’t…” she murmured.

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed with a slight nod.

So why weren’t they breaking away?

Eve swallowed as she slowly turned to face him. She could tell the dragoon was trying his best to not ogle her chest and smiled shakily. She wrapped her arms around his chest and pulled herself against him so they were pressed together.

His arms wrapped around her back and held her closer.

“Do you think…we could lie with each other and have no strings attached?” Eve asked timidly.

“…”

The miqo’te’s ears went up as she felt a pair of lips pressed against the top of her head.

“I fear you will get hurt.”

“I don’t think I can get hurt more tonight.” Her ears twitched a couple of times. “Will you be hurt?”

“…Nay.”

Her hand trailed his side and rested at the hem of his culottes. “May I touch you?”

“…Aye.”

Eve took in a soft breath as she slipped her hand past the hem of his culottes and cupped the throbbing organ that lay in wait for her. Estinien let out a gentle gasp as she tenderly felt his length, her fingertips dancing up and down his heated flesh.

“Is that good?” she asked.

“ _Aye_ …” he breathed near her ear, his member throbbing in his grip.

His arm tightened around her as she gave him a gentle squeeze and began stroking.

“Gods, Eve…”

His eyes closed as he tipped his head back, sighing and moaning softly as she kept a steady pace in her strokes, biting her lips nervously as she peeked down to see the pulsating member in her grasp. She licked her lips slowly.

“Estinien?”

“Hm?”

Estinien glanced down at her as she turned to his bicep and tentatively dragged her tongue up his tanned skin. His arm flexed as he uttered a surprised grunt.

“What in hells…?” he whispered as Eve nervously looked up at him.

“It’s a miqo’te thing,” she murmured. “Apparently we have a rougher texture on our tongues compared to other races. I wanted to warn you because…”

She bit her lip again before rolling him onto his back. Before he could react, she slid down to settle between his legs and pull his culottes down further.

He propped himself on one elbow, held the covers up with his spare hand and watched as she took his member with both hands and pressed her lips to the swollen tip. She looked him in the eye and carefully licked the tip.

“Ah!”

His hips bucked as he hissed softly and Eve tilted her head.

“How was that?” she asked carefully.

Estinien’s mouth opened and closed, looking confused. Eve’s ears twitched as she lowered her head, kissing the underside of his shaft before giving it a quick lick. He reacted in a similar way, an amused smile playing on her lips.

“Perhaps a ‘normal’ tongue would be preferred,” she giggled as she kept pumping his member, pressing another kiss to the tip.

“Eve, you…needn’t…” Estinien moaned.

She kissed the tip again before crawling up to lie on his chest, nuzzling her nose with his.

“Here…” She guided his hand to slip under her panties. She blushed deeper as his fingers met her soft, sticky folds. She mewled and bucked her hips when he grazed against her clit in his curious exploration.

“Does this mean…you’re willing?” he whispered and she nodded. “But what if you fall with my child?”

“I have preventive measures at the manor,” Eve moaned as she reached to wriggle her panties off. “I just need to drink them in the morning and it would be like tonight never happened.”

Estinien moved his hands to her hips as she looked down at him. They locked gazes and her heart lurched.

The dragoon barely blinked and the bard was on her front next to him, ears twitching uncontrollably.

“Eve…?”

“I prefer being taken like this,” Eve said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

Her tail went up and began prodding her entrance, slipping in and making her gasp softly.

“Like…so…”

“If I had ever seen a practical use of a tail…” Estinien muttered and Eve lifted her head with a pout.

“Tails are useful in everyday life, not just for teaching basic sex mechanics,” she huffed as she slid her tail out carefully. 

Estinien smirked as he moved to kneel behind her, holding her hips and bracing against her.

“But be gentle!” she said before he could push in. “…My tail is more fluff than muscle. Your girth may give me some discomfort at first so…”

“Duly noted,” the dragoon murmured as he continued his movements.

Eve gripped the pillow as he breached her, sliding into her channel and stretching her. Her inner walls flexed around the throbbing member as he groaned lowly, tipping his head back.

“ _Fury_ , Eve…” he growled and gripped her hips tighter.

“Don’t move,” Eve whimpered as she trembled. “Don’t move yet…”

Her hips as he caressed her lower back, stroking her tail and eliciting soft purrs.

“You feel good, Eve,” he breathed, growling as she squeezed around him. “Are you sure I can…?”

“Don’t question anything,” Eve interrupted him quickly. “Please, don’t. I just…just want to forget…” She lifted her hips and shook them, pressing back against him. “Just move and don’t question…”

“…Aye.”

Estinien moved his hips back and thrust forward. Eve gasped and gripped the pillow tighter. She bit into the corner, moaning as his member moved deep into her.

“Yes, like that,” she whimpered between grunts and sighs. “Ahhh, harder…”

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_. Please…!”

Estinien growled as he picked up the pace. Eve’s moans grew higher and louder. She gripped the pillow tighter, arching her back and mewling as the fire in her loins grew hotter.

“ _Eve_ …!”

“Inside,” Eve whimpered. “Release inside…!”

Estinien let out an orgasmic roar as he finished inside her. Eve buried her face into the pillow as she reached to furiously rub against her clit, indulging on the hot seed filling her until she bucked her hips, shaking as her orgasm washed over her.

The dragoon let out a short breath as he relaxed against her, his member twitching inside her as her hand dropped from her engorged button. They remained connected for a few moments, catching their breaths as sweat rolled down their bodies.

Eve was the first to move her hips forward, prompting Estinien to pull out and sit back. The miqo’te shuddered as she felt the evidence of their sinful act drip from her entrance, trailing down her thighs.

She rolled onto her back, looking up at the ceiling with a blank gaze. Her breath hitched.

_What…have I just allowed…?_

“Eve?”

The bard swallowed hard as Estinien leaned over her, a hand on her hip.

“Are you alright?” he asked with a tender gaze.

Eve glanced to the side. “…Hold me?”

“…Come here.”

She was rolled onto her side where Estinien embraced her. She buried her face into his chest to hide her shame, tears pricking her eyes once more.

“I…”

“…We will forget this tomorrow. For now, sleep. You need your rest, hero. When dawn breaks, we will be naught but comrades in arms.”

Eve’s ears twitched as she slowly nodded.

“Yes…”

She closed her eyes and relaxed, purring softly as she finally drifted off to sleep.


	2. ...the dragoon...

Estinien couldn’t sleep.

Normally it was a simple task. He could close his eyes and slip away into a peaceful slumber in minutes.

Perhaps it was the recent events still reeling through his mind. Memories came to him in tableaus, emotion tied into each one. Pain, sorrow, sympathy…

Estinien opened his eyes and glanced at the miqo’te curled up beside him. She looked peaceful. Dried tears clung to her eyelashes. Her breath tickled his skin, nose twitching occasionally.

He wasn’t used to sharing a bed with another, not since before he left after stealing away Nidhogg’s eye.

It was irritating somewhat. Her breathing was annoying, her tail brushing against him was annoying…

Estinien grimaced as he remembered Eve’s broken expression as Haurchefant asked for her to smile and purr. She just knelt before him and Aymeric, clutching onto his hand.

Her ears twitched when the fallen knight drew his last breath. There was a disbelieving look of denial that crossed her face.

 _“Haurchefant?”_ she uttered with a wavering face. _“D-D-Darling…?”_

It was heart-breaking. The way she shook his hand, batted at his chest gently then leaned closer to his face.

_“Haurchefant? Please…please wake up…”_

Her purring stopped and her smile fell. Reality seemed to crash into her as she began trembling.

_“Please no…you can’t…you can’t…!”_

Her ears were flat against her head and tears rolled down her pale cheeks. Her voice was broken as she kept uttering fragmented sentences.

Aymeric seemed reluctant to take him away from her as he stood. He was still injured and stubbornly refused assistance as he carried the dead body away.

Eve remained on the bloodstained ground, still trembling. Estinien approached her to offer his hand.

_“Will…he be okay?”_

It was like a knife twisting into his heart as he watched the famed Warrior of Light look at him like a child, innocent to the world’s cruelties.

She who fought valiantly on the Steps of Faith. She who struck down the Ultima Weapon and Gaius van Baelsar. She who battled with Nidhogg before him so ferociously.

Estinien was no stranger to losing comrades on the battlefield or witnessing the despair of others when they heard the news of their ill-fated loved ones.

Though, perhaps it was how sudden it all happened. Perhaps because it happened in arm’s length of her that she was so terribly shaken.

Haurchefant, after all, was more than just a companion.

The dragoon offered no answer, his hand extended to her still.

With a curious, almost cute, tilt of her head, the miqo’te lifted her hand to take it.

She paused. She turned her hand so her palm faced her.

Her brown eyes widened in horror as she saw the blood trickle down her arm and drip onto her lap. The trembling grew more violent.

_“It should have been me.”_

Estinien’s eyes widened behind his helm.

 _“Eve,”_ he spoke, _“do not think like that.”_

He remembered such dark thoughts haunting him in the first days after losing his family. He should have perished with them. He should have died at Nidhogg’s flame. Life wasn’t worth living anymore.

It was painful to see the woman he believed to be a close companion to be in a position he knew all too well.

At that moment, Estinien saw Eve as not just the Warrior of Light, selfless, brave and with a heart of the purest gold. He saw a mortal woman just like him and everyone else that walked Hydaelyn. Like everyone else, she was capable of breaking, she was capable of suffering.

So many praises around her, so many expectations. She was burdened with maintaining such a perfect picture of a hero that she easily forgets that she needs to take care of herself too.

It took more coaxing to get Eve to her feet. Steadily, he took her back through the Vault and delivered her to the Fortemps Manor.

It was lucky that he caught her before she fell off the Last Vigil, as other victims wrought with despair had.

“Nngh…”

Estinien snapped his attention back to the present. Eve shifted next to him, her ears twitching in her sleep. A soft purr erupted from her throat and he felt himself relaxing.

There was something soothing about her purr. He heard her purr whenever she was sleeping by the campfire. Alphinaud often lay close to her and the dragoon noticed he would drop off to sleep whenever Eve began purring.

The young boy often stuck close to her, looking up at her with such admiration and awe. She seemed ignorant to his looks and treated him like a little brother. She always had a watchful eye over him, taking care of him if he needed it.

But who was taking care of her?

Perhaps Haurchefant did. He was there when she was framed of regicide, cast aside by those who had hailed her as a hero and thrown into a new war where she would offer her bow.

Estinien knew naught of what the lovers routine behind closed doors but it wasn’t difficult to discern their relationship. The knight often wore his heart of his sleeve and the affection he held for the miqo’te was as clear as a cloudless sky.

Ha. The knight hasn’t been dead for twenty four bells and already Eve had sought the dragoon’s embrace for comfort. Or had he set up the stage for them to lay with each other? How disgraceful. Surely there would be those who would shame them for their reckless tumble in the sheets.

Then again, this was just for one night. One night of passion that would be forgotten, locked away in memories that were meant to be repressed.

Tanned fingers traced pale skin. The slumbering miqo’te purred louder, shifting closer to him and pressing herself against his chest.

Estinien idly tangled his fingers in her dark tresses, tilting his chin up so he could rest it atop her head. She nuzzled him sleepily.

As irritating as it was to hear and feel her breathing against him, there was something comforting about this scenario. He could still picture her standing on the stone railing, poised to plunge into the darkness from whence there can be no return.

Aye, it was shameful to have brought her betwixt the sheets, but at least she was alive. Safe, warm and alive.

The dragoon wrapped his arms around Eve and held her closer, sighing in content as she purred louder still.

Such relief. Such pleasurable comfort.

And it would all be forgotten when the sun rises.

Estinien slowly opened his eyes and looked ahead. 

What was this stirring in his heart? Why did it ache to think that all this would be forgotten? Why did it hurt to picture the bard walking away from him, never to look back?

Did he want to forget?


	3. ...will forget.

He will forget.

That’s what Eve asked. One night to just forget everything then forget what transpired between them.

He must respect that. For her. 

Estinien withdrew from the slumbering miqo’te, ignoring the soft whimpers. He turned his back to her, grimacing as she nuzzled into his back but ignored her. 

It would be best for the both of them after all. Eve was grief-stricken and he had taken advantage of her vulnerable state. He closed his eyes and kept ignoring her beckoning nuzzles, suppressed the urge to turn back around and cradle her close.

She would move on, but not with him by her side. She’ll find her own way to recover. She was strong after all. She had suffered so much, she can weather through this, no matter how broken she was.

He shan’t coddle her. 

Soon, her nuzzles stopped and she shifted to curl into a ball. He let out a breath of relief.

It was difficult to ignore her. But she mustn’t grow dependent on him. He mustn’t get attached. She will forget this night. 

He listened to her soft snores, feeling her tail brush against his thighs in her sleep. He prayed to the Fury to safeguard her. He prayed to the fallen knight for forgiveness.

She’ll be alright. That’s what he must keep thinking. He had never worried for her until tonight. He must stop.

She is surrounded by loved ones. Friends, those who she’s helped in her travels, companions who will lift her when she was at her lowest. Surely the Scions are blessed to have a champion whose dedication to helping others is rivalled by the fanatic archbishop’s passion into pursuing a perfectly just world.

They must treat her as their equal and not set her on a pedestal, the dragoon thought to himself. The miqo’te seemed modest in her talents and whilst she wasn’t perfect, her humility was mostly unfounded.

He wondered how heavy the burden must weigh when even the smallest of failures occurs. She must be very hard on herself.

_“The view is breath-taking.”_

Estinien recalled when they were in the Churning Mists. Eve’s eyes went wide in awe as they treaded into dragon territory and she ran ahead to gaze at the floating isles in awe. Her ears pricked to attention, her tail swaying excitedly, all sense of security thrown to the side to just take in the view.

_“It’s so beautiful! So wonderfully beautiful!”_

_“Eve, careful you don’t fall!”_

The miqo’te turned to Alphianud as he fussed and stuck her tongue out.

_“I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself. I’m a big girl after all!”_

Estinien wanted to remark that she certainly doesn’t act her age. Still, it was refreshing to see such spirit. Her ever growing hunger to explore, to see everything, to run up and down the slopes. It was invigorating to see such a carefree nature. Her aura seemed to rub off on everyone.

It took all his strength to not tug her back by her tail whenever she wanted to run ahead. For someone who complained about the long climb up Sohm Al, she was certainly excited to expend her newfound energy.

_“Eve, did my eyes deceive me, or was that a moogle?”_

Again, her eyes lit up at Alphinaud’s words. He personally missed the sight of the rodent, but a different kind of spark ignited in Eve’s eyes. He didn’t believe them to have seen them at first, until the Elder Seedseer arrived to appeal to the village chief.

Estinien thought the petty errands the moogles had them do was a waste of time. He couldn’t stand the fluffy pests with their cheerful words and overuse of the word ‘kupo’, whatever that was meant to be.

_“Ysayle, over here!”_

The elezen woman looked taken aback as Eve ran up to her with a struggling moogle in her arms.

_“Unhand me, kupo! I am not something you can grab out of the air!”_

_“Ysayle, here, pet his head! They’re so soft and fluffy, it’s too much! So much softer than the moogles in the Shroud!”_

_“Kupo?!”_

_“Here…”_

Ysayle looked enchanted as Eve guided her hand to the moogle and had her pet him. A flustered blush appeared on her cheeks.

_“Oh my, they are…fluffier than I thought.”_

_“Avoid the pompom, they don’t like it when those are touched.”_

_“Yes, kupo! Mind the pom, kupo!”_

It was satisfying to see the flying rodent struggle in futile as he was cuddled and petted by the women. Eve’s smile had a cheekiness to it. Like a naughty child.

It seems even she enjoyed indulging on some chaos every now and then. 

Mayhap he will take her back to the village when everything is said and done. Mayhap the nature of the view will help heal and soothe her pain, let her forget and appreciate the life and beauty around her. But also, mostly, he would take her to watch her chase after the damned moogles and force them into more cuddles.

He smiled to himself at the thought of Eve terrorising the village with her hugs and nuzzles. He wondered how her grip fared for them in comparison to the hugs she had given him. She had a strong grasp, however he could hardly feel it as strong as he was. Halone could only guess what it was like to a small moogle, or mayhap Eve was careful to not crush them.

She did underestimate her strength at times. Her arms were well toned with the times she must have drawn her bow back and let her arrows fly. 

Estinien felt the fatigue finally setting in as he continued to think about their time in the Churning Mists. He closed his eyes, chanting the small mantra that Eve will be alright. She will get better without him. She will turn to her other friends who will offer their support.

She doesn’t need him.

With that thought floating in his mind, Estinien drifted off into a peaceful slumber.


	4. ...will not forget.

He won’t forget. He didn’t want to forget.

Eve wanted to forget but he will not. He wasn’t the one who needed healing after all.

Estinien brought his arms around Eve and held her closer. She began purring louder and he allowed himself to smile. He tangled his fingers in her hair and pressed a hesitant kiss to her head. She nuzzled against his neck in response.

Precious. She was simply precious. It was touching to see her so vulnerable instead of some bravado to pose as the Warrior of Light, brave and unfaltering. It provoked something tender within him.

It felt selfish, he was very aware of this. But he’ll still keep his distance as she seeks the comfort of her comrades and heals with their support. 

Mayhap…just mayhap…they could revisit such an affair. Mayhap when all was said and done, he could appeal for her heart.

However, he couldn’t be so direct with her about it. After Haurchefant’s death, she will surely be more reserved in her affections.

This was fine. Estinien can live with her being more resigned. He wasn’t familiar with courting etiquette but perhaps, just perhaps, she wasn’t one for etiquette herself. She wasn’t some Ishgardian noble after all.

Estinien rubbed his fingertips into her scalp, smiling at the louder purrs that erupted from her. It was soothing to hear such a delightful sound from her. It was calming, serene and the stress seemed to melt away.

_“Estinien?”_

He remembered when they were in the Dravanian Forelands, making camp as they journeyed to Anyx Trine. Alphinaud looked proud as always when he returned with firewood and some chestnuts he thought they could roast on the fire.

Ysayle recalled a recipe using such chestnuts and Eve happened to have her cookware and the right ingredients to make the recipe. Apparently the miqo’te always carried flour, milk, eggs and sugar. She did need to hunt for the right kind of wheat for the highland flour but she was back with five fresh bags before the sun fully set.

_“Here, try it! It might be a bit sweet…”_

He regarded the Sohm Al tart she had on a small plate for him. Ysayle and Alphinaud were by the fire, cleaning up and chatting.

_“I am fine, Eve.”_

_“Not even one tiny bite? Please?”_

Her eyes were wide and seeking, a soft pout forming on her features.

Estinien had seen many tarts on display in patisseries with lots of children staring at them with a ravenous hunger for sugar. In comparison, this tart was slouching, plain with nary a decorative topping.

Yet he couldn’t say no to her gaze. 

He took the fork and cut the tart, taking a small bite. It was sweet. He never cared much for sweet things but this dessert didn’t taste as sickly as he found others.

_“How is it?”_

_“…It is passable.”_

_“Passable? Why? What’s wrong with it?”_

She looked at him as a student would a teacher. Her ears were flat against her head as she sought further criticism.

_“Eve, it’s nice. I just don’t eat desserts.”_

As if realising that not everyone was a food critic that wrote fancy reviews, Eve averted her gaze with a blush.

_“Sorry. I just…I always get nervous when someone tries my cooking.”_

_“Iceheart assisted you.”_

_“Well yes, but I still helped with the baking.”_

She sat beside him and set the plate between them.

_“Sorry, I guess I get really invested in improving my skills, I just won’t stop badgering others on their opinion.”_

_“Opinions shouldn’t matter, Eve. Just that it is edible and nourishing.”_

_“Still…!”_

She pouted, hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head against them. Estinien glanced back at the tart.

_“…It is an Ishgardian belief that eating these will help with the struggle against dragons.”_

Her ears pricked and she looked at him with eyes full of interest.

_“Really?!”_

_“So I’ve heard. Superstitious nonsense, of course. I’ve scarcely had these tarts and I still triumph in my battle against the dravanians.”_

_“Well maybe if you eat them more, you will get even better!”_

He actually chuckled at such a notion. Eve smiled back as she took the fork and cut a small piece for herself to eat.

_“I’d like to find more chestnuts so I can make this back in Ishgard. I wonder if Haurchefant will like it…”_

The affection she held for the knight was unwavering. Estinien thought him to be a very lucky man to have won the heart of the woman who had slain dragons, primals and garleans. All to protect Eorzea and aid Ishgard in the Dragonsong War.

They continued to chat. The tart was soon naught but crumbs on the plate and pushed to the side as Eve spoke of her stories as a green adventurer. She spoke of her friends, Yda and Papalymo, whom she had met in the Shroud. She talked about how she hoped they were safe and that she would very much like to arm wrestle Yda once more.

She spoke of her first clash with Ifrit, describing every detail of the battle down to her poor tail getting singed. She complained that it took moons for the fluff to grow back properly. He was amused by how indignant she was about it, overshadowing the fact that she took on a primal, regardless of her talents and gift.

Childish but mature. Experienced but naïve. He wondered what she would have been like had they crossed paths at the time he had stolen Nidhogg’s eye. Ha, he was immature back then. Maybe they would have fought and she would have done what she was believed was right to try and take the eye and return it to Ishgard.

But enough fantasies. 

Estinien shifted his grip on the slumbering miqo’te and pressed another kiss to her head. Her ears twitched in response as he closed his eyes, cradling the back of her head.

“Sleep and forget for now,” he murmured to her. “You have a harrowing journey before you. Rest as much as you can and at the end…” He smiled wryly. “Well. We’ll see.”

He closed his eyes and hugged Eve tighter, slowly drifting off into a peaceful slumber with hopeful, selfish dreams.


End file.
